


Lucky Rabbit's Foot

by seriouskitten



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 06:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15430614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriouskitten/pseuds/seriouskitten
Summary: "A rabbit’s foot may bring good luck to you, but it brought none to the rabbit."-Ambrose Bierce





	Lucky Rabbit's Foot

**Author's Note:**

> I've... Never really written fiction outside of school assignments and silly stuff from age 11 back when Quizilla was still a thing. Please excuse my love of commas.
> 
> I'm not sure where this is going yet! Feedback is appreciated!

The Huntress strode through the dead corn stalks, dry husks crunching under her bare, dirtied feet. Her axe swung gently at her side as she carried the struggling Survivor effortlessly to the nearest sacrificial hook. The Killer hefted him upon it and turned swiftly away, singing louder over the man’s pained screams.

One more left.

The Huntress clutched her axe to her chest as she scanned the area and hummed her eerie tune. As she circled around the farm, she found the metal hatch that served as a final escape option for Survivors and stalked past as the Entity’s impatient whispers pricked at the back of her neck. She wove through hay bales but stopped in her tracks at the slightest hint of a whimper from beside her. The Huntress rounded the corner again and caught a glimpse of the Survivor who was already sprinting away. Blood stained the grass beneath her and dripped along as she ran. Ah, she’s injured. The Killer strode after the girl.

The Survivor bolted away from the hatch, much to the other woman’s relief, and towards a building nearby. She limped through the doorway, The Huntress close behind. The larger woman yelled as she viciously swung her axe, but was met only with air and the whiff of it off of her swift blade as the Survivor limped just out of reach. The Huntress slipped a throwing axe out from her utility belt and readied it as she followed the Survivor around a corner.

* * *

 Meg pressed her hand against the lingering cut in her side. Each hurried slam of her feet on the ground seemed to reopen the aching wound. The Huntress’ sweet lullaby was no consolation as the towering woman loomed over her, getting closer as their chase went on. Meg skidded around a corner, looking over her shoulder as the Killer recovered from her missed swing.She slowed to a halt when she turned back to find herself at a dead end. How?! She knew that there used to be a window here. Was there really, or could she be mistaken? Was this possibly the Entity’s work? Meg turned to face her pursuer, breathing heavily, sweating, bleeding, and exhausted. The long gash along her thigh stung at the thought of more fleeing. It had been an incredibly long trial and Meg knew she was the only one left. She would be caught here almost certainly and sacrificed like so many times before. This run was as good as over, so Meg did something she had never done and gave up.

The Huntress rounded the corner and let her hatchet fly just soon enough to see Meg drop to her good knee and sit heavily on the filthy floor. The axe zipped through the air and imbedded itself in the wall just above Meg’s shoulder. The Survivor flinched and ducked away automatically. She braced herself for a knockout blow, then looked up slowly when none came. The huntress stood over her silently, holding her axe and looking down at the girl, head cocked in interest. After several moments the woman bent over and hefted the Survivor over her shoulder. Meg cried out as her wounds were aggravated but didn’t struggle to escape the Killer’s grasp. She squirmed and groaned when the Huntress’ grip pressed over the gash on her thigh, then resigned with a whimper. The large woman carried the Survivor out of the building and again began to hum her lullaby. Her hold was strong, but Meg just hung limp over the woman’s shoulder, attempting to stifle her pained whines. 

As she was carried through the doorway out into the cool night, Meg saw that the Huntress had passed by the steps leading down into the gruesome basement. She lifted her head and noticed that they had also just walked past one of the many meat hooks that littered the trial grounds. Before Meg could wonder what was happening, she was dumped into a heap in the grass. She yelped at the fall and looked up to the Killer, expecting to get an axe to the face, but the woman was already stalking away. Meg heaved herself onto her hands and knees. This was definitely odd. She turned her head and felt a cold breeze blow against her sweaty face. Wait… No, there’s no way.

Meg crawled to the open escape hatch beside her and peered over her shoulder to see if The Huntress was returning. The coast seemed clear, so she slipped in before anything else strange could happen. The cold enveloped her from head to toe, and then she was gone.

* * *

 Meg dreamed only occasionally in this hell. In the beginning, these times were wasted on nightmares of the realm she found herself trapped in, but eventually she began dreaming of home. After the recent trial, Meg dreamed that she was running, but on a track surrounded by peers instead of killers. She was in the lead, naturally.

Meg ran through the finish line and then slowed to a jog. She turned to watch the other runners join her, but the scene was suddenly somewhere different. Trees and tall grass surrounded her. Rain tapped gently onto the canopy of leaves above and dripped down. It was damp and muggy, and felt so real. Meg, in her dreaming state, instinctively crept around to find the nearest generator. As she walked, a familiar humming tune enveloped her. She turned her head towards the sound and came face to face with The Huntress, impossibly closer than she sounded. Meg took a step back only to have the ground give way beneath her. She recognized the shape of the metal escape hatch as she fell through its cold void. The Killer’s laugh echoed softly around her as her vision went dark.

The Survivor awoke with a start and found herself at the campfire, her head in someone's lap. Claudette’s fingers carded aimlessly through Meg’s hair, loose from its braid. Meg sighed and pushed herself to a sitting position.

“Dreaming?” Claudette asked simply.

“Uh, yeah. Same stuff, really.” she replied, not particularly in the mood to discuss her thoughts.

Claudette motioned for Meg to come closer with a small smile and she complied, sitting in front of the other girl so she could braid her hair back again. Several others were at the campfire too, as usual. Nea sat on the other side of Claudette and chatted with Feng. Laurie and Jake shared a log, both sitting in comfortable silence. David and Kate, who were in the trial as well, were there looking drained, but Quentin must have wandered off already. The others were probably somewhere sleeping or preparing for their next trial.

“Ya make it?” David asked.

The question caught Meg off guard. She instinctively was going to say no, that she was found and killed like the others, but that wasn’t quite true. She also didn’t feel like sharing her strange experience just yet, though it weighed heavily on her mind.

“Yeah, I found the hatch.”

David grinned and leaned over to high five her and Kate smiled as well. Despite her lie of omission, Meg smiled back.

“You’re so good at finding that thing, I swear it isn’t even there half the time for me,” Claudette laughed behind her, tugging strands of Megs hair into place. She tied in the last hairband and gave Meg an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

“Just lucky I guess.” Meg shrugged.

“I hate when they find it first and just… stand there. Super bogus,” Feng added, leaning forward to peer past Nea at the others. “Who was it this round?”

“The big... rabbit lady?” Kate said, sounding unsure.

“Oh, Huntress,” Feng responded. “Yeah, she’s creepy.”

Meg zoned out as the other Survivors chatted back and forth about the Killers. Creepy? Yeah, definitely. The tall woman could possibly seem inviting in other circumstances, but Meg couldn’t imagine it. She never recalled seeing or hearing about any of the Killers showing compassion, let alone to any of the Survivors. Sometimes they wondered if some of the Entity’s servants disliked their positions, but it was hard to know when none of the Survivors knew anything about the Killers’ pasts. Claudette had said before that they must be as varied as all of the Survivors were. Different ages, different backgrounds, different times, even. All of the Killers seemed to have one thing in common, though; that they were murderers. Meg supposed there was no way to know if that was true before they were all sucked into this hellish realm. They all have killed her and her friends over and over again, though, so did it even matter?

Maybe it was best to forget about it. She and her teammates had enough to be worried about anyway. Meg decided to put the situation out of her mind, at least for now. Even still, the image of The Huntress looming over her as she crouched on the floor remained when she closed her eyes. If she was lucky, maybe she wouldn’t have to see that particular Killer for a while.


End file.
